


Come Run With Me

by CassidyRocks



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 23:18:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10501518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassidyRocks/pseuds/CassidyRocks
Summary: Kurt Hummel, newest intern for an online fashion magazine, didn’t appreciate being bested by the good-looking, curly-haired stranger he’d been eyeing on the train.  He was going to grab himself a good pair of running shoes and, in the morning, show the hobbit a thing or two!





	

With the obligatory entry stamp staining his inner wrist, Elliot entered the high-end fashionable Manhattan nightclub with his boyfriend of just two weeks and, after a meticulous eye-sweep of the lavish interior, he found the tall blonde model for whom he was looking. Sam was idling near the entrance to the noisy venue and Elliot raised his hand to garner the man’s attention.

“Hey Sam,” he greeted, raising his voice slightly to be heard above the din of the crowd.

“Elliot! Great, you’re here!” Sam’s smile was wide in welcome as he recognised the third member of Kurt’s band, One Three Hill. He reached forward to shake Elliot’s hand and, noticing the shorter man beside Elliot, Sam’s eyebrows rose in question.

“And this must be?”

“This is Matt,” Elliot offered, addressing Sam. Then, turning to face the handsome young man next to him, he explained, “Matt, this is Sam – a good friend of Kurt’s from their high school days.”

Matt smiled warmly and shook Sam’s hand in greeting.

“Elliot, why don’t you and Matt head on up those stairs to the private area that’s been booked for us? Grab a drink on your way, though. Just tell the bartender you’re here for the private party. Blaine’s dad can’t make it tonight but he’s picking up the drinks’ bill – How cool is that?”

Elliot grinned happily. “Very cool, indeed,” he agreed and, taking his boyfriend’s hand in his, he led Matt away from the entrance towards the bar where they collected a complimentary drink each and headed on up the carpeted circular stairs. At the top, they were directed by a member of Club’s staff to the secluded area where Blaine and Kurt’s friends were gathering.

“Very nice,” commented Matt, his head nodding in approval, as they entered. The semi-circular wall to their left was tastefully decorated with plush burgundy upholstered seating and gold throw cushions. Small, oval-shaped, glass tables, dotted along the expanse of the seating area, bore all sorts of delectable finger food and Matt salivated at the sight of his favourite canapes. The overly-large window to their right afforded guests in the room a view of the already-full, pulsating dance floor below but, fortunately, the noise was subdued and they could at least speak without shouting, although it appeared that Rachel Berry had not received that particular message.

“Elliot!” she shrieked loudly from across the room and came running towards the two men, grabbing Elliot in a tight hug. When she released him, she lunged for Matt before Elliot could even attempt to thwart her actions and she had the newcomer in a firm hug as Elliot tried to introduce the two.

“Oh, I am so pleased to meet you. Elliot’s spoken so much about you,” she gushed and Matt blushed as Elliot sought to disentangle Rachel from his boyfriend.

“Back away, Rachel; Matt’s very new and I don’t want you to scare him off,” he warned, completely unaffected by her immediate pout. Elliot’s quick glance away caught some of the other guests in the room and swiftly established their escape.  “Rach, I’m just going to introduce Matt to Isabelle, okay? We’ll chat to you later.”

Taking his boyfriend’s hand, he pulled the man away from the petite brunette who was nodding her head in agreement and calling after them, still quite loudly,

“Yes, you do that but, remember, you both have to dance with me later, you hear?”

“Wow,” murmured Matt quietly under his breath. “She’s a bit intense. Are they all like that?”

Elliot giggled. “No; fortunately, not at all. Rachel’s alright but in small doses. Really, really, small doses.”

“Elliot, it’s lovely to see you again.” The sweet feminine voice belonged to a rather attractive woman who stepped away from a group of young men to greet Elliot as he approached.

“Isabelle, you too,” agreed Elliot, sweeping her outstretched hand to his mouth and delivering a courtly kiss to her palm which made her giggle.

“May, I introduce you to Matt? Matt – this is Isabelle Wright – Kurt’s former boss and part of the reason we are all here tonight.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Ma’am,” Matt offered his hand in greeting and Isabelle smiled widely at Elliot.

“Oh, honey, he called me Ma’am – you gotta marry this one, Elliot! I absolutely insist.”

“Now Isabelle – you may have been ‘matchmaker extraordinaire’ for Blaine and Kurt but-” He would have continued but Matt interrupted him.

“You’re the reason Blaine and Kurt got together?” he asked of the woman in front of him who smiled back at him with the satisfied grin of the Cheshire cat.

“Well, no; not really – I guess that was all on Blaine but I did nudge Kurt a bit when nudging became necessary,” she affirmed and, looking around for a suitable spot, she eventually settled comfortably down on the seat nearest them. Matt placed his glass on the nearest low table and sat down eagerly beside her.

“Wait, this I’ve got to hear. How exactly did they get together?” he asked, intrigued.

Elliot sighed mockingly and sat down beside his boyfriend. His hand gestured royally at Isabelle before reaching for Matt’s and clasping it tightly.

“Go ahead, Ms Wright – you have a captivated audience and you do tell this particular story so very well,” he teased.

***************************************************************************

Startled, at the sound of an unfamiliar heavy thump, Isabelle looked up from her desk towards the open door of her office.

“Kurt? Is that you?” she queried, calling out sharply for her newest intern’s attention. Only Kurt’s head appeared around her door as she continued to stare.

“Hey, Isabelle, I’m sorry to disturb you. I didn’t think you were going to be in this morning. Didn’t you have that meeting at-”

“Forget my meeting and get your sweet li’l self in here and tell me what’s wrong,” the woman interrupted forcefully and Kurt frowned at her.

“What do you mean, ‘tell you what’s wrong’? Nothing’s wrong, Isabelle,” he countered but the formidable young woman behind her desk roared with laughter.

“Kurt, honey, try pulling the other leg because this left one, here, is just not buying. Get in here and sit down,” she instructed again. Reluctantly, Kurt pulled his whole body into view and at the sight of him, Isabelle began to giggle.

“Kurt?” Kurt blushed as he walked toward her desk, sat down and tried to hide his feet from Isabelle’s amusement by wrapping them around the legs of the chair in which he sat.

“Kurt Hummel – you’d better quickly explain to me why you look so glum and why you thought wearing those…” Here, she paused to gesture sadly at the white running shoes on his feet. “…would make you feel better?”

“It’s a long story,” Kurt mumbled unhappily, squirming awkwardly in the seat, “and I’m sure you don’t have the time to-”

“Nonsense, I have all the time in the world,” she argued gleefully. “In the four months that you’ve worked here, Kurt, I have never seen you put a fashion-foot wrong, so you’ll understand my concern at this… at this… well, let’s call it a lapse in judgement on your part.”

There was a very heavy, pregnant pause as Kurt weighed up the pros and cons of telling his boss and, indeed, his mentor, of his woes. “There’s this guy,” he began, softly.

“Ah, honey – when is there not?” Isabelle commiserated but, at Kurt’s pointed glance, she grimaced and pretended to zip her lips. Kurt rolled his eyes, took a deep breath and continued.

“So, for a while now, every morning, I’ve noticed this guy on the train. He’s extremely good-looking with curly, dark hair which… um… is quite unruly really. His clothes scream ‘student’ but definitely not poor, ratty student – just casually relaxed… um… do you know what I mean?” he quizzed Isabelle and she nodded without saying anything. Kurt raised his eyebrow sardonically at her imposed silence but continued nevertheless.

“Well, anyway, every morning, I get off the train and begin the fifteen-minute walk to work and he’s always a couple of steps ahead of me and he always gets to the corner before me because I get stopped by the light and he passes it.”

Kurt paused to see if Isabelle was still listening to him and was surprised to find her leaning towards him, her elbows on the desk with her chin resting in her hands. She was utterly enchanted with his story. He breathed in again. “But yesterday… yesterday, for some reason, I was ahead of him for the first time. And he… get this, Isabelle, he runs… RUNS in front of me, turns around and says, ‘I’ve been winning for a whole month now - can’t stop now. Have a good day! See you tomorrow.’ ”

Isabelle squealed – she actually squealed but, then, when she realised that Kurt wasn’t smiling and that she didn’t yet have the reason for the really awful sneakers he was wearing, she stopped short.

“Go on,” she encouraged in a much calmer voice.

Kurt sighed and the blush crept up his neck and found its way unerringly to his ears, colouring the tips, ever so slightly, in soft, rouge. “Isabelle, I was so stupid. This morning, I thought… um… if I wore running shoes, I’d have a fair chance of beating him.”

Isabelle couldn’t help it – she really couldn’t. She tried to restrain it but the incredulous laughter burst forth like an impatient athlete causing a false start. “I’m sorry,” she stuttered amidst her guffaws. “I really am, Kurt – but the visual is just too much for me. So, tell me, did you beat him this morning?”

Kurt didn’t answer. His head hung low in his chest and he didn’t meet Isabelle’s eyes when she prodded, quietly. Then, with all sign of laughter gone, she asked, “Kurt? What happened this morning?”

“He wasn’t there,” Kurt answered quietly, his tone heavy with disappointment. “He wasn’t on the train this morning.”

“Oh, honey,” she sympathised.

“I feel like such a fool.” Kurt grumbled in a soft voice.

“But Kurt, you shouldn’t give up. If you like him and you want to get to know him, you should tell him. But, I don’t think resorting to tacky running shoes is the answer, though. He’s obviously had his eye on you for a while as well. Perhaps yesterday was the first time he plucked up the courage to speak to you.”

“But then, why wasn’t he on the train this morning?” Kurt asked despondently.

“Ah, now Kurt, you and I both know there could be any number of reasons why he wasn’t there this morning,” Isabelle tried to reassure him. “Perhaps, he’s ill,” she suggested. “Perhaps, his mother’s ill or his father? Perhaps-”

“Yeah, or how about… perhaps his girlfriend’s ill and he stayed over at her place last night?” offered Kurt dejectedly, interrupting his boss’s offerings. “Come on, Isabelle, you know I have the worst luck when it comes to finding a gay boy to date.”

But, Isabelle shook her head, the auburn mane around her face flowing fiercely with her movements. “No, I refuse to believe or even to accept that. There will be a perfectly good reason for his absence on the train this morning – you’ll see and when you see him on Monday morning, he’ll explain it to you and you’ll understand and then you’ll fall in love and get married and have babies and…”

The ringing of the phone on her desk interrupted Isabelle mid-speech, much to Kurt’s enormous relief and he picked up the receiver with as much dignity as he could muster.

“Isabelle Wright’s office,” he answered politely. After a few moments of listening to the caller, Kurt agreed to put the call through. Expertly, he placed the call on hold and explained who was wanting to speak to her. She nodded her consent.

“Okay, I’ll talk to him but, Kurt, honey, this conversation is not over.”

“Oh, yes, it is,” he relied firmly. “I’m just going to go and find some shoes in the vault and throw away these awful ones, along with my pride and dignity, dreams and hopes.”

“Kurrrt,” grumbled Isabelle as she picked up the receiver and announced herself to the caller.

**************************************************************************************

Matt was listening intently as Isabelle came to the end of her story but, before he could comment, the sound of someone calling out Elliot’s name caught their attention and he turned around to see two new arrivals drawing near.

“Elliot!” called the dark-haired man again and, in the dimly-lit room, Matt watched his boyfriend’s eyes light up as he stood up to greet the dark-haired man approaching.

“Nicholas Duval! It’s been too long.”

The two embraced just as a long-legged, shaggy-haired blonde caught up to them and Elliot hugged him too, with a fond “Jeffie” rolling off his lips. Matt stood up at the same time as Isabelle did and Elliot quickly introduced the two men to Matt as “Blaine’s best friends from Dalton Academy.”

“It’s good to meet you,” replied Matt. “Isabelle, here, was just relating the tale of how Blaine and Kurt met and-”

Jeff began to giggle and asked “Has she got to the part where everyone finds out that it was entirely our fault that Kurt was a complete mess the next day?”

Catching Nick’s exasperated eye-roll, Isabelle sipped mischievously from her elegant champagne flute as Matt raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“What? No, she hadn’t. Wait, you guys were the reason Blaine wasn’t on the train the next morning?”

Nick wrapped an arm around Jeff’s waist and pulled the blonde closer to himself as he explained to Matt. “Jeff and I have known Blaine ever since he arrived at Dalton Academy at the start of our sophomore year. He is actually a year older than us but he was repeating the academic year because… well because of-” Nick’s voice trailed off, the dark-haired man suddenly conscious of bringing up past hurts in front of a stranger.

Gallantly, Elliot came to his rescue, explaining quietly, “Blaine doesn’t keep it a secret, Matt, but we don’t really mention it much. He was beaten up after a Sadie Hawkins dance at his old school. He’d gone with another boy and the idiot jocks at the school took exception to that. His injuries kept him in hospital for a few weeks and then he was home-schooled while he recuperated. Dalton was a fresh start for him.”

Matt’s face reflected the competing emotions of anger and sorrow typical of someone hearing of the hateful bashing the first time. “Wait, so he suffered this dreadful attack at the hands of these awful boys but then his parents put him – their openly gay son - in an ALL boys’ boarding school? I don’t understand.”

Jeff smiled and reached out a hand, resting it on Matt’s arm. “That was the best thing about Dalton. It imposed a very strict Zero-Tolerance Policy. There, Blaine was safe – to be himself.”

“And he was,” interjected Nick, quickly. “He was the best he could be, there – Captain of both the Fencing and Polo teams, Senior Class president and, for three years, he was lead soloist of the Warblers and-”

Matt nodded, interrupting Nick’s effusive praise, “Okay, so far, I’m getting a really good impression of your friend, Blaine, but I’m still not sure how it was your fault that Blaine wasn’t on the train the next morning.”

The whole conversation paused for a moment as a passing waiter was halted in his journey across the room so the four men and Isabelle could replenish their drinks. As the man walked away, his tray somewhat lighter than before, Nick continued his story. “Well, throughout high school, Jeff and I were very close -”

Jeff giggled and Isabelle snorted into her drink, each earning a fierce glare from the storyteller. “- but, at the time, we didn’t really understand our relationship for what it was. We both had an array of girlfriends at various times but we much preferred hanging out with each other. When it came time to choose colleges, we agreed we wanted to go somewhere together and so we were thrilled to be accepted to Boston University where we were even luckier to be placed in the same dorm room.”

“And it was there, in that room,” interrupted Jeff, still giggling, “that we discovered that we were seriously attracted to each other and, well, you know, one thing led to another and-”

“Alright gentlemen,” Isabelle hastily intervened pointing her champagne glass at the two both in succession, “I think we all get the idea.” Jeff grinned broadly as Nick blushed deeply but soldiered on.

“We were a little bewildered by the… by the... events that took place.”

This time, Elliot snickered into his glass as Jeff turned his head to look curiously at his boyfriend. “Events? Nicky, really?”

While Nick took a sip of his drink, ostensibly to regroup, Jeff eagerly continued the rest of the explanation for Matt.

“We were so happy, but also a little confused and we agreed that we needed some help in sorting out our muddled feelings. So, we hopped on a train and arrived unannounced on Blaine’s doorstep. He was thrilled to hear of our…” Here, Jeff paused and looked sneakily at Nick very quickly before winking at Matt as he continued, “… event. Anyway, we chatted way into the early hours of the next morning, drinking far too much tequila and, as a result, Blaine missed the train that morning and also most of his Friday classes.”

Nick nodded in agreement, “I remember him being really mad with us because he was afraid he had missed his chance with, and, I quote, … ‘the angel on the train’ that he’d been eyeing for a few weeks.”

“But,” Elliot announced, “as we now all know, turns out - he hadn’t missed his chance - because on the Monday morning when Kurt stepped off the train, Blaine was waiting for him and, finally, introduced himself. A coffee date led to lunch which led to dinner and before we knew it, Kurt was dating Blaine – a music student at NYU.”

************************************************************************************

“And what can I get you to eat, Blaine?” Rachel asked with the cultivated politeness of a consummate professional, her pen poised expectantly on her notepad as she prepared to write down Blaine’s dinner order. Blaine looked up at Kurt’s roommate decked out in her skimpy red and white waitress uniform which, in his opinion, left not much to the imagination. Over the past three weeks, he had decided that only Kurt’s classy black and red shirt (which, incidentally, looked splendid teamed with the black trousers the male waiters wore at The Spotlight Diner) was acceptable.

“Oh, Rachel, um… no, thanks. We’re not eating here. Sorry, um… I thought Kurt told you? We’re having a quiet Thanksgiving dinner at um… my place,” he replied, surprised and feeling awful, although Kurt had assured him twice the day before that he shouldn’t feel guilty. Rachel had requested the dinner shift in a resilient attempt to keep her mind off the fact that she wasn’t going home to Ohio for Thanksgiving Break.

“Oh, no, that’s right – yes, yes, he did tell me. I’m sorry, Blaine. I think I’m just distracted. It’s weird not being home tonight of all ni- ”

“Oh, my word, you guys!”

Both Blaine and Rachel looked up as the stainless-steel door leading to the kitchen swung open and Kurt burst through with his phone in his hand. His face was ashen. Blaine was on his feet in an instant.

“What is it, Kurt?”

“What’s wrong?” Rachel asked in concern.

Kurt held the phone out in front of his chest like it was radio-active or a poisoned weapon of sorts. “That… that was Finn on the phone. New Directions just lost Sectionals.”

“What?” hissed Rachel, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. “How is that even possible?”

“Apparently, that new girl, Marley, fainted on stage so they were disqualified and the Dalton Warblers won.”

“The Warblers won?” Blaine repeated in a whisper, trying hard to keep the conflicting emotions in check as Kurt nodded sadly. Rachel was called away to attend to a table but Blaine followed Kurt back through the inter-leading door and into the staff break room to learn more of the apparent catastrophe.

“Look here,” Kurt instructed, showing Blaine his phone. “Sam sent me this video of the Warblers’ winning number.”

Blaine watched dumbstruck as he saw a boy he didn’t recognise lead his former show choir through some fairly daring and spectacular dance moves. Kurt was impressed with the technical expertise of their performance but Blaine was shaking his head in disbelief.

“No, no; this isn’t right. Something’s wrong,” he muttered.

“What do you mean?” asked Kurt quietly, watching his boyfriend stare intently at the screen. “This just isn’t us – we don’t… I mean, the Warblers have never… we don’t do that.”

Blaine gestured to the screen where boys in constricting uniforms of grey trousers and navy blue blazers were singing and leap-frogging over each other on the stage. Kurt put a steadying hand on Blaine’s back as he spoke.

“Look, I know we never competed against each other and I’ve never seen the Warblers perform but, even I have to admit, they’re good, Blaine, really good,” he acquiesced but Blaine shook his head again.

“No, you don’t understand, Kurt. The Warblers rely totally on the uniqueness of _Acapella_ \- not these fancy dance moves.  When I was there, all we did was sway.  Sway, shuffle, step, step… that was our signature move.”

Kurt tried to placate his boyfriend. “I guess it’s hard to accept that something we’ve been a part of for so long goes on without us and maybe changes things a bit – even for the better?” Kurt’s offered explanation was tentative.

“No,” Blaine was adamant. “Something is definitely wrong. I don’t see Trent here at all. Trent would never miss a Warbler performance. Something is very definitely very wrong. Get hold of your friend, Sam, and ask him to investigate why Trent Dixon didn’t perform tonight with the Warblers. I don’t like this, not one bit at all.”

Much later, that night, once their simple yet festive dinner of turkey breasts, buttermilk mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie had been eaten and they were relaxing on the sofa in each other’s arms, Kurt turned to face Blaine.

“I wish I’d known you back then,” he said.

“When?” asked Blaine, his head thrown back casually against the back of the sofa and his eyes closed, obviously still suffering slightly from the after effects of a large dinner.

“When you were a swaying, shuffling, two-stepping Warbler,” continued Kurt.

“Mmm, that would have been very nice,” mused Blaine as his hand pulled Kurt back into his embrace. “I would have found you, somewhere in that beautiful school, perhaps in my AP Calc. class or, perhaps, wandering on the vast corridors, lost on your way to lunch.”

Kurt smiled and snuggled up closer, getting more comfortable on Blaine’s chest. “Perhaps, I might have stopped you on a staircase and told you that I’m new there,” Kurt suggested, buying into the fantasy tale Blaine was weaving.

Above him, Kurt could feel Blaine’s head nodding in agreement. “Yeah, and I would have taken your hand and shown you a short-cut to the Senior Commons-”

“Why there?” interrupted Kurt.

“Every now and then, the Warblers would throw an impromptu performance which tended to shut the school down,” Blaine explained, the proud note in his voice not entirely missed by Kurt.

“And what would you have done when we got there?” he prompted, keen to continue this dream fantasy of theirs.

With his one hand, Blaine tugged Kurt even tighter against his chest and when he was satisfied, with his free hand he ran the back of his knuckles down the soft curve of Kurt’s cheek. “There, I would have serenaded you-”

“You would have serenaded me? Kurt repeated in a reverent whisper.

“Absolutely,” replied Blaine confidently. “I would have caught your eye and held it while I sang you a song.”

Kurt lifted himself off Blaine’s chest and turned so he could face Blaine who was disconcerted to see Kurt’s eyes awash with unshed tears.

“Kurt?” he asked softly in concern but Kurt shushed him as he leaned in slowly to capture Blaine’s lips in a soft kiss. Too soon, in Blaine’s opinion, Kurt was pulling away ever so slightly.

“I would have liked that very much,” he breathed against Blaine’s lips.

“Yeah?” Blaine’s eyes fluttered open to find Kurt smiling down at him.

“Yes; it would have made me smile. And, trust me, Blaine, I didn’t do that a lot in high school.”

*******************************************************************************************

Matt smiled at Elliot’s friends, Nick and Jeff, and was just about to comment when his eyes went wide with concern as a strikingly-attractive young woman with long jet-black hair sidled up to his boyfriend and covered his eyes with her immaculately manicured hands.

“Guess who?” she whispered in Elliot’s ear.

Matt watched as his boyfriend began to grin slowly and then held his glass out in front of his body in the hopes that someone would understand his need. Nick obliged by taking the glass from Elliot who was then able to stretch his arms back and run his hands suggestively up and down the hips of the girl standing behind him.

“Hey there, Gilbert! None of that now!” called out another female voice, followed quickly by an admonishing reprimand, “Santana! Behave!”

“Now there’s an oxymoron if ever I heard one,” mumbled Elliot as Santana removed her hands, wagging a finger at him accusingly.

“Don’t think I didn’t get that, Starchild Grape!” she warned and then her face broke into a broad grin as she spied Matt standing in the group. “Ooooh! And this must be the Grape’s flavour of the month.”

Holding out a hand in formal greeting she introduced herself before Elliot could. “Santana,” she declared decisively, “and anything he’s ever told you about me, is probably true,” she continued brashly.

“Matt, let me introduce Santana and Brittany?” Elliott finally managed to get a word in and, as he hugged the blonde woman who had arrived at their group in Santana’s wake, he tried to introduce the girls to his boyfriend. “They went to school with Kurt,” he explained.

“It’s really lovely to finally meet you both. Did you go to NYADA too?”

“Ah, hell no,” replied Santana, “I was too busy making things happen for me to bother with school. That was always Rachel and Kurt’s dream though. Although, having said that, Kurt was lucky to be given a second chance there.”

“A second chance?” repeated Matt. “What do you mean Santana?”

But the girl had lost interest and was dragging Brittany away to chat to some of the other people in the room. Matt turned to his boyfriend.

“Ell? What did she mean – Kurt was lucky to be given a second chance?” he asked. “Sounds like there’s a story there.”

****************************************************************************************

“Brrr…” Having removed his gloves when they ventured inside, Blaine rubbed his hands together and blew on them subtly before turning to hold out his left hand - an invitation to Kurt who happily took it and squeezed tight.

“Thank you so much for coming with me tonight, Blaine. I really couldn’t face this evening alone.”

Blaine’s smile was broad across his face, his eyes wrinkled in delight as he returned the hand squeeze just as enthusiastically. “Hey, no; it’s my absolute pleasure. Anything for you, Kurt – you know that, right? I can only imagine how torn you must feel right now.”

Kurt grimaced wryly and would have replied but, at that moment, an usher was showing them to their seats in the theatre. As soon as they were comfortably seated, Blaine looked around him in wide-eyed wonder.

“Wow!” he exhaled, the awe obvious in his voice. “I mean, I’ve heard about this theatre – we all have, over at Tisch - but to actually be here is pretty damn mind-blowing.”

When he caught Kurt’s deep sigh beside him, too late, Blaine realized his tactless blunder and rushed to apologise. “Kurt, I’m so sorry. That was unbelievably insensitive of me. I would never-”

Kurt laid a hand on Blaine’s arm to halt the rush of words. “Blaine, no stop. It’s fine. Don’t apologise. I’m just as thrilled as you to be here. I just wish that this theatre was actually a part of my reality, you know?”

Blaine nodded in understanding. “Still,” he continued, desperate to cheer up his boyfriend, “it is awfully good of you to be here to support Rachel in her debut this evening.” Blaine rubbed his boyfriend’s hand with his thumb. “You are a wonderful friend to her, Kurt.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the melodious voice of Madame Tibideaux who welcomed the members of the audience to the New York Academy’s Winter Showcase. As Rachel entered, Blaine reached over and pulled Kurt’s hand completely into his lap, lacing their fingers together. Kurt turned and gave him a grateful smile before both had their attention captured by Rachel’s truly outstanding rendition of Streisand’s ‘Being Good isn’t Good Enough.’

When she finished, Blaine was on his feet alongside Kurt and the entire audience, clapping enthusiastically in appreciation of the young woman’s faultless talent. When Carmen Tibideaux invited her to sing again, Blaine unashamedly wiped the tears from his eyes as Rachel sang the sweetest version of ‘O Holy Night’ that Blaine had ever heard. He turned to Kurt who was also sporting watery eyes and remarked, “Damn, the girl can certainly sing!”

“I know, right?” agreed Kurt beside him, dizzy with happiness for his friend and roommate.

When the theatre became quiet again and the audience had returned to their seats, Kurt fully expected the next student to be introduced to them. Instead, he almost choked on his own breath while his hand tightened on Blaine’s in a vice-like grip, as Carmen Tibideaux surprised them all by inviting Kurt to sing for a position in the programme beginning in the new semester. If he felt he was ready, she announced, he could have the stage following a short intermission in the evening’s showcase.

“She’s insane!” he hissed in the quiet corridor Blaine had found for them where Kurt could salvage his demeanour and his breath. “Certifiably insane, I tell you!”

Blaine caught and held fast in his own the hands that Kurt was wringing, trying to exude the calm Kurt so desperately needed in that moment. “But, Kurt, she’s giving you the chance you’ve been asking for.”

Too fraught with tension to succumb to his boyfriend’s ministrations, Kurt wrenched his hands free and turned away from Blaine in nervous exasperation, his hands flying above his head indicating air quotation marks as he confessed his frustration and, indeed, his fear. “Blaine – don’t you get it? Just last week, again, she told me my performances were ‘devoid of complexity and depth’ but now she wants me to go be ‘devoid’ in front of the entire Winter Showcase audience which - by the way - is filled with faculty members! What is she thinking? I don’t have anything prepared. I don’t have any props or even a costume. I don’t have-”

“Kurt, listen. Baby, no, listen to me,” Blaine’s tone was pleading.

Kurt took a breath and stilled at the sound of ‘Baby’ rolling off Blaine’s lips. It was not a term Blaine had used before and it successfully broke through the turmoil of his jumbled thoughts and, finally, he could pay attention to hear what Blaine was saying. He turned to face his boyfriend and his eyes settled on Blaine’s. Seeing that he had finally secured Kurt’s attention, Blaine continued, emphatically.

“Kurt, you told me she wants to see you give ‘your soul, your heart.’ She wants you to be ‘vulnerable.’ Well, the way I see it, there will be no moment better than this one right now for her to see just how vulnerable you are – just you and your incredible voice – no trappings, no crutches, no trimmings and no frills - just you – just you being you – being fabulously, you.”

He stared deeply into Kurt’s eyes as those gorgeous blue-green orbs searched his own for courage. In that moment of silent opia, Kurt allowed himself to drown in the intensity of Blaine’s fervent and somewhat invasive gaze but, in his boyfriend’s eyes, he found the strength to be vulnerable.

“Being me?” Kurt repeated, his voice tremulous in trepidation.

“Yes.”

“Just me?” The voice was slightly stronger now.

“Yes,” came the solid response, yet again. “You, in this moment, being …”

“… alive?”

“Yes,” whispered Blaine and, smiling that devastatingly handsome smile with which Kurt had fallen in love, he pressed his lips against Kurt’s, murmuring, “absolutely, yes.”

*****************************************************************************************

“Wait! I can’t believe it,” Matt was astonished. “Carmen Tibideaux offered Kurt an opportunity to audition for a spot at NYADA at the Winter Showcase? Wow! Just wow.”

Jeff thought it rather comical how Matt kept shaking his head. “That’s unheard of at NYADA,” he mused as Elliot nodded in agreement. “But, then again, Kurt is rather phenomenal so it makes absolute sense if you think about it,” offered Nick as he leaned across the seated men to grab the plate of food closest to Elliot.

“Of course, he’s pretty phenomenal, he’s my kid, ain’t he?”

Matt looked up to find a tall, burly man, wearing a crisp white shirt under a loose-fitting dinner jacket and a jauntily-placed fedora covering what was obviously a bald head, edging his way into the circle. To a jubilant chorus of “Burt!” one by one, each of the men around him stood up to greet the newcomer – each receiving a great big bear-hug and pat on the back for their troubles.

Elliot followed suit and received his hug from the man as the others had done too. He reached for Matt, pulling him closer as he gestured with his hand.

“Matt, this is Kurt’s father, Burt Hummel.”

“Mr Hummel,” began Matt with his hand outstretched.

“Nah, none of that kid – the name’s Burt. It’s good to meet you.”

"Thank you, Sir… um… Burt. It was kind of your son to extend the invitation to me as well. Elliot and I have only been together a few weeks, so I didn’t expect to be included.”

“Well, that’s Kurt for you,” agreed Burt, “and Blaine too. Elliot’s pretty special to them so I reckon anyone close to him would immediately secure a safe spot with Blaine and Kurt.”

His eyes danced around at the group of young people milling around the room and he smiled indulgently. When his eyes returned to Elliot, he found the young man holding out a drink which he took gratefully.

“Cheers,” he toasted. “To Blaine and Kurt!”

“To Blaine and Kurt” – the echo came back strong – loud and proud.

“We’ve been telling Matt their epic love story,” explained Jeff.

“Oh, have you now?” Burt chuckled. “It’s my favourite story, too. Just where have you got up to in their ‘romcom’ drama?”

“Elliot just told me how Kurt won his place at NYADA by singing at The Winter Showcase,” explained Matt.

“Yeah, well that little turn of events sure put a spoke in our Christmas plans,” Burt remarked although Matt couldn’t detect any disappointment in the spoken comment.

“Oh?” he asked. “How so?”

“Well, you see, Kurt was going to come home for Christmas but with the extra expense of NYADA tuition to pay, we just couldn’t afford it. I think I was probably more heart-broken than my son. After all, his boyfriend was going to be in the city for Christmas so why would he want to come home to Ohio then?”

********************************************************************************

“Come on! Kurt, please? It’ll be fun. I promise.”

“No, Blaine – just no. There’s no way I’m letting you pull me off this comfortable sofa and drag me down to Bryant Park in this freezing cold weather – for what? To skate around on precariously thin metal blades – in shoes that someone else has worn?” Kurt shivered in disgust.

“But Baby, we’ll wrap up really warm and I’ll even buy you some hot chocolate afterwards. You know how much you love hot chocolate. Please?”

Kurt watched as his boyfriend of a couple of months deliberately arranged his face into his best pouting- puppy expression. The one he has learnt will melt Kurt’s heart and break through those determined walls Kurt’s mind had erected. Placing his hands over both his eyes to ward off the effect of the puppy eyes, Kurt continued, shaking his head negatively.

“Blaine – I’m hopeless on the ice – I’ll probably fall all over the place injuring my butt and you – you’ll, most likely… you’ll be… like … this impressively brilliant, Olympic skater.”

Laughing, Blaine prised away Kurt’s fingers and kissed each one in turn as he spoke again, grinning as he noted that Kurt had now squeezed his eyes shut tightly. His face was all scrunched up and Blaine adored it.

“But, I’ll be there to hold you tight all the way. I won’t let you fall. I promise.”

Kurt allowed one eye to open slowly. “You’ll hold me the whole time?”

“I promise.”

Kurt allowed the other eye to open. “And you won’t let me fall?”

“I won’t let you fall.”

“And you keep me warm?”

“I’ll keep you warm and buy you hot chocolate to drink, as well. Come on, Baby – I promise, you’re going to love this.” Blaine was emphatic and he pulled Kurt up off the sofa and into his arms where he captured the man’s lips in a determined kiss that Kurt quickly turned dirty.

After a while, pulling away from Blaine’s lips, he tried one more time to dissuade his beautiful boyfriend. “You know, we could just stay here, drink hot chocolate on the sofa and you could keep me warm in other ways,” he flirted.

Noticing how prettily Blaine blushed, Kurt grinned. He loved that soft flush that rose from Blaine’s neck and flooded his cheek so deliciously but, with a determined expression on his face, Blaine pulled away and grabbed Kurt’s outdoor jacket, draping it over the man’s shoulders as he turned away to pull Kurt’s snow boots out of the closet.

As he handed them to Kurt, he grinned broadly, “We are going ice-skating at Bryant Park and you are gonna love my surprise,” he announced with conviction.

“Surprise?” Kurt’s eyes were wide open now. “You’ve got a surprise for me?”

Blaine nodded, suddenly biting his bottom lip.

“Well, why didn’t you say so in the first place, you goofball? I would have been off the sofa in a shot. Come on, then. Let’s go!!”

Bryant Park was one of Blaine’s most favourite parks in the city but even more so in wintertime. The giant ice rink that was created over the remains of the summer grass was his favourite winter pastime and this year he was terribly excited to share it with Kurt. Besides the ice-skating adventure, he had planned for his boyfriend, he couldn’t wait to see Kurt’s face when he saw his surprise package.

The two boys hurried up the stairs of the subway and turned onto 42nd Street, heading towards the park, with Kurt still badgering Blaine for a hint or a clue as to what the surprise was.

“Well, I can tell you this much,” Blaine teased, “it was too large to have delivered to the loft so we have to collect it from here.” Kurt was intrigued and his mind raced over the possibilities but he came up blank.

When they reached the park, Blaine suggested that Kurt should find them a spot on an empty bench while he went to hire skates for the two of them. Scraping off the remnants of a recent snowfall off the bench, Kurt sat down gingerly and surveyed the very many couples already skating comfortably on the ice. He was pleased to see there were several people who were struggling with their balance so he wouldn’t look like the only idiot out there in a few moments. “

Package for Mr Hummel,” a deep but familiar voice spoke behind him and Kurt whipped around to see his father standing behind the bench.

“Dad? Oh my…”

Kurt jumped up off the bench and ran to his dad who enveloped him in a warm hug. Kurt stepped back and asked in confused amazement, “You’re here? How? Why?”

“Well, Kiddo, Blaine here rang me up and invited me for Christmas.”

“Blaine rang you?” Kurt repeated, his face clearly astonished and he turned bewildered eyes towards Blaine who stood, with an enormous grin on his face and two pairs of skates in his hands, just a few paces behind Burt as his delighted eyes darted between Kurt and Burt.

“Why?”

Blaine stepped forward to explain himself. “I saw how disappointed you were at not being able to go home for Christmas despite being thrilled to have been accepted into NYADA so I thought I could give your dad to you for Christmas.”

“You flew my dad to New York for Christmas, for me?” Kurt was dazed by Blaine’s generosity and his boyfriend nodded shyly.

“Merry Christmas, Kurt.”

Kurt stared at the boy in front of him. He was sure his mouth was hanging wide open and he couldn’t find the words he needed. But, in that moment of utter silence between them, Blaine became concerned. “

Was that okay?” he asked quietly.

Kurt was shaken from his shock and laughed. “Is that okay? Oh, my word, Blaine,” he stepped out of his father’s embrace and turned fully towards the young man standing in front of him. Without taking his eyes off Blaine, he spoke to his dad, “Dad, would you cover your eyes for a minute? I must kiss this amazing man I get to call ‘boyfriend’.”

Burt chuckled. “Hey, no; that’s perfectly alright – you go right ahead! I’m just gonna sit on this bench here. And wait for you two.”

Kurt drew back eventually from Blaine’s lips. “Blaine, I can’t believe you did this for me. I’m going to have to go shopping all over again now for your gift.”

Blaine laughed at the delight in his boyfriend’s eyes and kissed him again swiftly on the lips. “No! No, not at all. I wanted to put a smile on your face, Baby and honestly - your face when you recognised your dad – that was the best present you could give me.”

“Blaine – I … I love you,” Kurt said simply, his eyes fixed on Blaine’s.

“Yeah, I know Kurt – I love you too,” was Blaine's natural response.

Another kiss to cement that moment and then Blaine was issuing instructions. “Now, you sit here with your dad and put your skates on. I’m going to get us all some hot chocolate and then, you and I are going skating, and, if I’m lucky, you’ll sing me some sweet sappy Christmas song in my ear.”

In no time at all, Burt was enjoying the long sips of frothy hot chocolate as he watched his son skate around the rink, leaning heavily on his boyfriend’s arm. The two of them giggled and smiled the whole way around until, eventually, Kurt felt confident enough to strike out on his own. Blaine skated backwards, just in front of him – ever ready to catch him should he fall.

Much later that night, as Blaine said goodbye to the Hummel men inside the loft, Kurt pulled his boyfriend’s head closer to his and whispered in his ear.

“Best Christmas Present Ever!”

**************************************************************************************

Matt tore his eyes away from the dance floor below him as Santana’s voice to his left broke through his reverie.

“Here,” she offered, holding out a flute of champagne for him, a smirk on her face. “You look like you could do with a drink.”

Thanking her politely, he took a sip and then turned back to peer through the enormous glass window in front of him. Santana followed his gaze to where flashing coloured lights punctuated the spot where Rachel and Elliot danced together close to Jeff, Nick and a couple of others from their party.

“So,” she began, with a light tease in her voice, “you and Elliot, huh?”

“Yeah,” sighed Matt, a lazy smile brightening his face, as his eyes fondly tracked the gyrating body of his boyfriend.

“Well, aren’t you a smitten kitten,” she laughed delightedly as Matt blushed a delicate shade of rose.

“It’s all very new, Santana, and I’m just… really enjoying taking the time to… you know… to get to know him. It’s not quite the ‘Blaine and Kurt Epic Love Story’ but well, it’s just nice… um special – very special.”

Santana observed him closely. “Hey,” she said firmly. “Make no mistake here. It wasn’t always sunshine and roses, and glittery rainbows, with those two. Don’t be fooled. They hit a rough patch and, together with that short shrimp over there dancing with your honey, I had to stage an intervention of serious note.”

“An intervention?” Matt turned towards Santana, the surprise obvious in his wide eyes and raised eyebrows. “With Blaine and Kurt? You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I can be very serious about this. Kurt very nearly lost the best thing that ever happened to him but fortunately for him, Rachel and I are two of the fiercest interfering bitches you’ve ever met and we just happened to snare the unsuspecting blundering fool on a weekend that our good friend Mercedes Jones was visiting us in New York.”

“Mercedes Jones?” Matt’s incredulous expression grew even more comical. “You know Mercedes Jones?”

"Know her?” Santana scoffed. “Of course, we know her. Long before she became all rich and famous in L.A. - she was at school with us.”

Matt couldn’t help but be impressed and he leaned forward eagerly. “And she helped you guys with Kurt and Blaine?” Santana cocked her head as she pondered that question.

“Well, we kinda helped sort Kurt out which in turn kinda helped the ‘Blaine and Kurt Epic Love Story’ to get back on track.”

Matt took one more look at the dance floor where Brittany had now joined the others and was showing the dancers a complicated set of moves. Moving away from the window, he gestured for Santana to join him once again at the seating against the opposite wall. “Tell me more,” he invited, patting the empty seat beside him.

*******************************************************************************************

Yawning widely, Kurt slid open the giant door leading into the loft and winced as the tracks squeaked on the rails. He didn’t want to wake the girls this late at night. Looking down at his watch as he slid the door closed behind him, he corrected himself. Okay, he didn’t want to wake the girls this early in the morning then. Satisfied that the door was locked, he turned around just as a lamp in the living room snapped on and, in the sudden light, he discovered his concerns were for nought because both his roommates and their out-of-town visitor were still wide awake.

“Oh, hi – wow! You guys are up late. I was trying to close the door quietly so I wouldn’t wake you and here you all are.”

The surprise was evident in his voice as he walked further into the room and deposited his messenger bag on the dining-room table. No-one answered him as he flopped down beside Mercedes on the sofa but he was quick to jump up again when he realized that he’d sat on a binder of some sorts. Three pairs of eyes tracked his movements as he picked up the offending item and read the name on the front cover.

“Oh,” he smiled softly, “It’s Blaine’s _Egypt_ script.”

He placed it gently on the coffee table and sat back down on the sofa, letting his head rest on his friend’s shoulder.

“Boo,” Mercedes began but Kurt jerked his head up suddenly and sat bolt upright.

“Wait, why’s Blaine’s script here?” he asked, confusion plastered all over his tired face as he looked around the room at the three girls. Both Santana and Rachel were glaring at him and when his eyes landed back on Mercedes she was frowning at him, too.

“Girls, what’s going on?” he asked tentatively.

“Where have you been, Kurt?” asked Rachel and her tone was impatient.

“Where have I been?” Kurt repeated dumbly. “I told you this morning, Rachel – I had rehearsals with Adam’s Apples.”

“Yes, but that was supposed to have finished at 10pm, Kurt,” interrupted Santana and Kurt’s head swivelled in her direction.

“I know but Adam and I were-”

“And why is your phone off, Kurt?” This time Rachel interrupted him sounding more like an impatient mother than a roommate and Kurt was surprised.

“It’s off?” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Oh, damn, I must have forgotten to switch it back on again after rehearsals.” He clicked the ON button and within mere seconds, his phone was beeping with the numerous messages he had missed. He registered: You have 8 missed calls and You have 12 new messages just as Mercedes took the phone from him and put it down on the coffee table. She then took his hand in hers as she turned him to face her.

“Boo – we have to talk.”

“About what, ‘Cedes?” Kurt looked around the room and became very uncomfortable with the body language of his three favourite girls. “What’s going on?” he asked, his voice now dangerously quiet.

“This is an intervention, Kurt,” Mercedes replied.

“An intervention? What are you talking about?”

Rachel answered that one. “We are very worried that you are about to throw away the best thing that has ever happened to you,” she explained.

“The best thing? What are you talking about?” Kurt repeated in confusion.

“Blaine!” hissed Santana. “We’re talking about Blaine.”

“What do you guys mean?”

“Boo,” Mercedes’ voice was calm as she spoke. “Blaine was here this evening, waiting for you. Apparently, you had an arrangement to meet here after your rehearsal.”

Kurt shook his head in denial. “No, no, it was a tentative arrangement. I told him I’d text him after rehearsals to let him know if I could see him tonight. I didn’t know how tired I would be.”

“And did you?” Rachel asked.

“Did you text him after rehearsal, Kurt?” Santana was beginning to sound like a prosecuting attorney.

“Boo – he was so worried that he couldn’t get hold of you, he came here thinking you’d be here and probably fast asleep but he just wanted to be sure.”

“Can you imagine the conversation we just had with him, Kurt?” Rachel again.

“When was the last time you two went out? Just the two of you?” This from Prosecutor Lopez.

Kurt held up his hand to stop the flood of questions. “Okay, wait, you know what? This is sounding a lot like this is all my fault and it isn’t.” He paused to gather his thoughts. “Yeah, okay tonight probably is – I forgot to turn my phone back on and then Adam wanted to go over a few songs with me and so we stayed behind to play with some ideas and I lost track of time. But Blaine’s stood me up too, you know. He’s had to cancel several dates because of rehearsals for _Prince of Egypt_. You haven’t heard me complain about that!” he argued.

Hands folded in disagreement, Santana spoke up. “Well, actually I have. I heard you on the phone to Adam the other day and you said, and I quote, ‘Don’t worry – Blaine will probably cancel anyway’.”

In the moment’s silence that followed that accusation, Rachel tried again. “Kurt, Blaine has this amazing opportunity. He’s got a lead role in a play that could set him on his Broadway track and you really haven’t been supportive at all.”

Kurt glared at her indignantly. “Of course, I have!” he disagreed. “I’ve let him get on and do what he has to do and in the meantime, I’m making my own way at NYADA. Rachel, you know the only way to fit in is to join clubs and singing in Adam’s Apple gives me that opportunity. I’m meeting so many new people-”

“And you’re still interning for Isabelle which means you really haven’t got much time left for Blaine, have you?” she countered.

“And I don’t trust Adam nor his British accent,” Santana declared.

“What? He knows I have a boyfriend, Santana.”

“Yes, but he’s not very respectful of your relationship,” Rachel continued.

“What did Blaine say when he was here this evening?” Kurt asked and there was silence as the girls contemplated just how much of Blaine’s anguish they wanted to share with Kurt.

“He cried, Boo,” Mercedes answered softly. “He feels he’s messing up and he wants to quit the show so he can be more available for you.”

“Quit the show? He can’t do that. He’s going to kill that role. Why would he even think that?”

“I think he feels you’re worth it, Kurt,” Rachel reasoned. “You are everything to him.”

“Question is, Hummel – is he everything to you?” Santana was brutal in her honesty.

“Of course, he is,” Kurt snapped impatiently and then he paused, looking at the three girls and seeing nothing but concern for him in their eyes, he continued. “But, NYADA is time consuming and between my job at the diner and interning for Isabelle and trying to make time for Adam’s Apples, I… I…” Kurt hung his head in shame. “I’ve neglected Blaine, haven’t I?”

“Yes, Boo, you have.”

“Is it too late? Does he hate me?”

“No, you idiot! The boy loves you. Did you hear me say he wants to quit NYU’s production of _Prince of Egypt_?”

“He can’t! He can’t do that. Not for me. I don’t deserve it.”

“Not right now you don’t. You’re right there,” agreed Santana harshly.

“Santana…” warned Mercedes. “Play nice.”

But the Latino was adamant. “What? It’s true! Blaine worships the very ground Kurt’s feet walk on and right now Hummel is stomping all over that hobbit’s heart.”

“I get it, Santana, I do,” Kurt whispered quietly, tears glistening in his eyes. “Blaine is the love of my life but what do I do?”

“Well, I think it’s easy. You quit one of those two jobs you’ve got going and you throw out that rotten Apple as well,” Santana replied.

“I can’t quit my jobs, ‘Tana – I love what I do with Isabelle and the diner pays well.”

“Yeah, but Adam don’t do diddly squat for you so he’s gotta go,” she countered.

“You mean I must give up Adam’s Apples?” he asked as his eyes sought out the three girls in the room.

“Yes, Boo. I rather think the choice is down to Adam or Blaine.”

“Adam or Blaine? ‘Cedes, that’s not even a contest. Blaine, I choose Blaine.” Kurt was definite.

“Thought you might,” Rachel smiled.

“Perhaps you should go tell him that then,” suggested Mercedes, with a warm soft smile for her friend.

“You know, I think I will do just that.” Kurt got up off the sofa to collect his coat and bag but Santana stopped him.

“He’s asleep in your bed, Hummel.”

“What? He’s here?”

“He was absolutely exhausted and very emotional last night so we gave him some headache tablets and put him to sleep in your bed,” Rachel explained.

“He’s in my bed?” whispered Kurt, standing dead still in astonishment. Rachel nodded.

“Um… okay then… I’ll just go... um… I’ll just…” Kurt waved vaguely with his hand as the three girls smiled at him. He turned towards his cordoned off section of the loft but then he stopped and spun on his heels to face the three still sitting in the living room.

“And girls… um… Thank you.”

*******************************************************************************

“The next morning, we found them happily wrapped in each other’s arms, whispering their apologies and making new promises to do better.” Santana informed Matt. Her satisfied smile indicated her still- obvious delight with the success of the intervention.

“It was a close-call,” remarked Matt. “They are lucky to have such amazing friends.”

“Yeah, they really worked hard to make it work after that. Adam didn’t take Kurt’s departure from Adam’s Apples very well but, two weeks later, we all travelled back to Loser-ville to attend Mr Schue’s wedding that eventually wasn’t and, it was there, I think, that the boys really sorted themselves out – if you know what I mean?” Santana giggled and winked as she elbowed Matt in the side.

Matt frowned and shook his head. “No, what do you mean, Santana?” he asked curiously.

The woman in front of him giggled again. “Well, let’s just say, when you meet Blaine and Kurt, you should ask them about hotel room 207…”

“I think that’s the last question Matt should be asking Blaine and Kurt, Santana.” Elliot’s voice was rough and breathless – having exerted himself on the dance floor. He wrapped his arms around Matt’s waist and hugged him close.

“Oh, you spoil sport!” Santana huffed and walked away.

“What was that about?” Matt asked.

“Just Santana being Santana,” he replied. “She delights in embarrassing Kurt at every opportunity but, a while ago, he shared with me that that night after the wedding - that wasn’t - he and Blaine took their relationship to the next level.”

“You mean they -”

“Yeah, they were intimate and it was a very special, precious moment for Kurt and I think it bugs him that Santana will insist on debasing their first time experience with her crude comments.”

“Oh, okay – then I will definitely not say anything about hotel room 207, then,” Matt assured his boyfriend. “Although, Ell, I have to tell you…” his voice lowered to a seductive whisper. “I can’t wait for us, one day, to have our own hotel room experience …”

“Yeah?” Elliot’s eyes had darkened as he searched his boyfriend’s face.

“Yeah,” affirmed Matt, coyly playing with Elliot’s tie. Elliot took his boyfriend in his arms and kissed him gently. The two men quickly lost themselves in the sensations of the soft press of lips and darting tongue, curious tongues.

“Hey, Starchild! Get a room would ya?”

At the sound of his good friend’s voice, a lazy smile on his lips ended the kiss and Elliot pulled away from Matt’s mouth.

“They’re here,” he whispered and turned around to face his band-mate and his brand-new fiancé.

“Kurt! Blaine! You’re finally here.”

Matt watched as his boyfriend hugged the men he recognised from photographs scattered around Elliot’s apartment. Their faces were bright with happiness and Matt thought it was just as well that Blaine had ears or his grin would wrap itself entirely around his face. Elliot propelled Matt forward and, with an arm comfortably wrapped around his boyfriend’s waist, he spoke proudly.

“Blaine, Kurt, I’d like you to meet Matt.”

Blaine reached forward to shake Matt’s hand, followed swiftly by Kurt and Matt was pleasantly surprised at how strong and confidant each handshake was. His dad had always told him that you could trust a man with a firm grip.

“It’s really great to finally meet you two,” he gushed. “I’ve heard so much about you, not only from Elliot but from all your friends here this evening.”

“Oh, you have, have you? And that doesn’t make me uncomfortable at all,” Kurt quipped as Blaine laughed along with him.

“We’re really going to have to muzzle the lot of them, aren’t we, Babe?” Blaine asked of his fiancé. The arm draped casually around the man’s waist pulled Kurt closer and Blaine kissed his cheek softly as Kurt nodded in agreement.

“Definitely!” Elliot laughed. “All good stories, I can assure you.”

“Damn right, they be good stories, Starchild – they are, after all, about me,” purred Kurt but then, suddenly a frown creased his handsome face. “But they didn’t tell you about…” He broke off and gasped. “Oh, for heaven’s sake… Isabelle’s already been here, hasn’t she?”

Elliot nodded, grinning widely now at Kurt’s discomfort. “… and she started the stories, didn’t she?” Kurt quizzed Matt who smiled – guilt written clearly across his face.

Kurt threw up his hands. “Of course, she did! And she told you all about my severe lapse of judgement that day, didn’t she?”

Matt nodded but then he reached out to lay a hand on Kurt’s arm. “But, I have to tell you Kurt – it’s the cutest story I’ve ever heard of how two people got together.”

“I happen to think so too,” asserted Blaine, “but Kurt hates us ‘being cute’ …” Blaine lifted his hands above his head, his hands indicating air quotes, before continuing, “… so we’ll settle for disgustingly sappy, if you don’t mind?”

The four men chuckled. “It’s good to have you here, Matt. Elliot hasn’t been able to stop talking about you since you guys met,” announced Kurt into the quiet lull that followed.

It was Elliot’s turn to squirm, Kurt decided, and he was going to enjoy it.

“Thank you,” smiled Matt. “Can I ask? Would it be totally inappropriate and out of line for me to ask one last question?” he asked.

“I guess that depends on what it is,” Kurt responded hesitantly but an indulgent smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Matt looked from Blaine to Kurt, swallowed and then, gesturing to the platinum bands on their respective hands, he asked, “Who proposed? How did that happen?”

“Oooooh, that’s my favourite story!” exclaimed Kurt happily at the exact same time as Blaine who answered, “I’ll tell that one.”

Blaine smiled at his fiancé and explained to Matt. “Kurt arranged a summer picnic in Central Park with a bunch of our friends but only I arrived at the stipulated time, having told everyone else to wait a half hour or so. From my bag, I pulled out Kurt’s infamous pair of running shoes, presented them to him and asked if he would come run with me for always.”

“Aaah,” sighed Matt, leaning heavily into Elliot who wrapped his arm around his boyfriend’s waist.

“It took me a while to understand what was going on but when I saw that Blaine had tied these rings up in the shoelaces – everything made sense,” Kurt declared.

“He said, yes, so long as I never expect him to wear those shoes ever again or expect him to ever go running with me,” Blaine continued and the small crowd that had no gathered around the story-tellers laughed.

“Not bad conditions for accepting a marriage proposal,” noted Nick, patting his old school friend on the back.

“No, not bad at all,” agreed Blaine, “although my mother is having the shoes bronzed and we will find a special place in our home for them, won’t we, Love?”

“A very special place,” agreed Kurt.

Elliot raised his glass at the company assembled. “To Blaine and Kurt!”


End file.
